


Collections on the Road

by DietBiohazard



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-14
Updated: 2013-08-14
Packaged: 2017-12-23 12:00:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/926152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DietBiohazard/pseuds/DietBiohazard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of One-Shots (or possible 2-chapter fics) centering around Bilbo, and the various relationships he finds himself in. </p>
<p>1. Bilbo/Fili/Kili (If you squint)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Collections on the Road

“Daisy and Bungo are missing.” 

Bilbo really didn’t have time to dwell on it, considering the circumstances and the events that played out. He hadn’t really even thought about it at the time, much more concerned with the fact that two of their sixteen ponies had been stolen by who knows what. The events afterwords effectively kept his mind completely occupied for quite some time. 

He didn’t even know what had brought it to the forefront of his mind as he sat comfortably around the small fire the dwarrows had build out of elven furniture. It was a warm night, and made even more pleasant by the food the dwarrows were currently cooking over said fire. He was a fan of elves and their food, but he could have easily eaten six times more than the food that was served. 

It seemed as though the sentiment was shared with the rest of his group. 

He was flanked on either side by Fili and Kili, both of them joking and jeering with one another as they went on their separate tasks. Kili was examining a elven arrow, not afraid to look for pointers from the tall folk (despite his race’s dislike for them), and Fili was repairing a tear in his jacket. All in all, it was a comfortable silence that greeted them, interrupted every once in a while by a joke or a shout for more food. 

“Oh no.” Ori’s voice was what broke Bilbo from his musings, the youngest dwarrow’s voice edged with sorrow as he continued to dig through his bag. With every second that passed, his face fell, and eventually his hands stopped their trek. 

Dori, noting his brother’s dismay, leaned comfortingly against the other, “What’s the matter, Ori?” 

“My last roll of yarn was in my saddlebag.” Ori huffed softly, trying not to seem too put out, but the way he shoved his bag away gave notion to his anger, “Why did the ponies have to bolt?” 

“Which one was yours, Ori?” Bilbo mused, remembering back to when the trolls had taken their poor ponies, their cries almost heart-breaking to Bilbo, whom had always had a soft-spot for animals and such. 

Ori sighed, almost not answering, because what did it matter what pony was his? But one look at Bilbo’s kind and curious face made Ori’s spirits lift and lips curl in a smile despite his dismay, “Daisy.” 

_“Daisy and Bungo are missing.”_

It was that very second that so many things assaulted Bilbo that he could scarcely breathe. It was such a strange sensation, his lungs fluttered to a stop and his heart gave a painful lurch in his chest. 

He cold almost hear his father’s voice in his head, singing sweetly to him when he had nightmares and tucking his blanket tightly around his body. The way he remembered his father, Bungo could have been ten feet tall rather than his actual three. Bilbo was always looking up at him, that warm and caring smile, the way Bungo’s hand would carefully ruffle Bilbo’s hair. 

The thing Bilbo remembered the most about his father was his laughter. Bungo would laugh at anything, and at the same time, he could make anyone laugh. He had been a Baggins, but the one thing he truly shared with his Took of a wife was a sense of humor. 

Gulping, Bilbo shifted sadly as he turned his gaze to the fire. He had to know, as his curiosity was one of a Took, “...How did you name your ponies, anyway?” 

As it was not something they usually talked about, the naming of ponies, Kili and Fili were surprisingly enough the ones that answered him, “Well, a good number of them came to us with names already, like Daisy, Myrtle, and Peter.” 

“Then they were paired off with their dwarves, who would usually fill in a name if so desired.” Fili spoke, reaching across Bilbo to elbow Kili playfully in the side, his smirk stretching across his face, “I named Creetcher and Smasher.” 

Kili laughed uproariously at the memory, the rest of the company rolling their eyes at the ridiculous names the brothers chose to give the horses, “Yes, and I, Bungo and Neville!”

Bilbo’s heart lurched in his chest once more, and he suddenly wished for the conversation to end. Curse his insatiable curiosity. That, or curse his horrible sensitivity. It was just a name!

“Bungo and Neville?” Bofur laughed at the absurdity of the names, trying to fathom why on middle-earth Kili would choose those names, “The only Bungo I remember is a horrid dwarrow down from Moria, cursed a storm and didn’t know the front end of an axe from the back.” 

“Aye!” Kili laughed, abandoning his research of the elven ware in leu of this much more interesting conversation, “One in the same! I named the horse so, because he was quite the little prat. Would bite me when I wasn’t looking and steal apple cores right from my hand!” 

Bofur laughed at the image of it. 

By this point, many of the group felt inclined to join in the conversation, either from their own stories of his particular Bungo, or another Bungo they knew during their lifetimes. 

“Never met a Bungo I liked.” Dwalin scoffed, leaning back against a thick support beam, his face melding into annoyance as he thought on the subject, “I knew a Bungo Lowlands, a human. Stole my daggers, he did. Then tried to blame it on a child!” 

“I daresay there is a good Bungo on this earth!” Nori, too, had a tale about a particular Bungo, his voice perhaps even more venomous than Dwalin’s had been, “I knew a Bungo that tried to get his hands on Ori, thought he might barter from us some gold by threatening Ori’s life.” 

It seemed that the rest of the dwarrows were either used to this sort of thing, or had already heard this story, as Bilbo was the only one to gape in shock. Be it from Nori’s truly appalling story, or the fact that they were now all sharing stories in conjunction with a name also attributed to his father, he didn’t know. 

“Not a decent Bungo on this fair earth!” 

Surely they wouldn’t be speaking so if they knew of Bilbo’s father, how kind and gentle he had been. Surely they wouldn’t even speak the name again if they knew of how he died, how he’d smiled to the very end, comforting Bilbo when he himself was the one that needed comfort. They didn’t know, they couldn’t have possibly known, but it still hurt Bilbo like a knife to the heart. 

For all that he was doing to stop it, he still remembered the way his father would wake him up in the mornings when he was naught but a fauntling, with a gentle kiss on the brow. He treated every day as if it were a treasure, and as if Bilbo were the greatest one. Belladonna had been unable to have any more children after Bilbo, so Bilbo had gratefully taken the brunt of Bungo and Belladonna’s love. 

It made it that much harder when they died. 

“What about you, Bilbo?” Kili had just finished laughing particularly hard at a story of a nasty man with a hook instead of a hand (a stretch of the truth, to be sure), looking down at the sullen and withdrawn Hobbit. He didn’t even seem to take in the fact that Bilbo was not smiling with the rest of them, “Do you know a horribly atrocious Bungo?” 

Bilbo would not allow himself to wallow in his self-misery, at least not while he was surrounded by such merriment. Nor would he let slip that his very father was named Bungo, as it was one thing to wallow himself, but he would not bring down the mood with him. 

Forcing a smile, he shook his head, “I can’t say I do, Kili.” 

For his father was _anything_ but horrible or atrocious. 

He was like the sun and the air to Bilbo, when he was just leaving his tweens. A large source of protection and love, and Bilbo had not felt that feeling for years and years, not since his father died. 

 

 

 

It was nearing nightfall when Bilbo finally allowed himself to leave from the group. He needed to be alone for at least a moment, to allow himself to think of his father without laughter echoing in the background. 

Rivendell was a beautiful area, truly stunning with it’s sights and architecture. He had never seen anything like it, and if it were up to him, he’d come here immediately following his ‘adventure’. Maybe he would do so, if no particularly trying circumstances kept him in Erebor. 

Thinking quickly to Fili, Kili, and Thorin, Bilbo’s heart throbbed painfully for an entirely different reason than his father. There was no way they’d want a small and rather pathetic Hobbit like him living with them. It was stupid to even hope. 

“Bilbo?” 

Shifting slightly on his perch, Bilbo glanced over his shoulder with a sigh to see the familiar forms of the princes making their way to him, hair ruffled and eyes dreary from sleep. 

“Are Hobbits nocturnal, Fi?” Kili asked absently, stumbling over to where their Hobbit stood against the balcony, “Because our Bilbo doesn’t seem to sleep.” 

“Nah, Ki.” Fili mused, leaning against the railing and running a tired hand through his hair. Raising a tired brow at Bilbo, he quirked his lips in question, “So, tell us, what has you up at these odd hours of the night?” 

“It’s nothing.” Bilbo insisted, shaking his head and offering the two a smile, before turning back to his musings, “Just have a full head.” 

“You know, the best remedy for a full head is to empty it.” Kili mused, brushing against Bilbo’s opposite side, nudging him playfully, “What has your mind so cluttered?” 

Bilbo stuttered, allowing himself another moment of thought, contemplating wether or not he should tell the two of his problem. It wasn’t their fault that he was feeling so low, and there was no possible way they could have ever known that his father’s name was Bungo, and he desperately didn’t want to bring down their good mood with his silly thoughts. 

But, he also knew these two well by now, and knew that if he didn’t say anything right now, he’d keep being pestered until he explained himself. 

“My....” He took a deep breath, shrugging nonchalantly and glancing at the two on either side of him, “My father’s name was Bungo.” 

He could see that it took a moment for their sleep-addled minds to put two and two together. Realization sparked in their eyes, and their once slumped postures straightened as they took in the information. 

“Your....” 

Bilbo felt that it was only proper to further explain, “It’s not your fault. You didn’t know.” 

He could see that they were still uncomfortable and remorseful by the news, taking hesitant steps toward Bilbo as they desperately tried to gather the right words to say. They couldn’t just apologize, for in Dwarrow culture, they had made a great slight. They had spoken ill of the dead, and while it was not direct slander against Bilbo’s father, it was still a great disrespect. 

“When....” Kili gulped, leaning close to Bilbo, his voice soft and sallow with the information of Bilbo’s predicament, “When did he pass?” 

Bilbo gulped, pleased with the warmth the two were offering when they stepped close in comfort, “It was...ten years ago. He was sick for the longest time, and no matter how many healers we got, none of them could gather so much as a theory as to what was the matter. We watched him fade, day by day, losing the ability to speak and see....” 

Fili made a pitiful sound in the back of his throat, quickly surging forward to wrap both arms tightly around Bilbo, lifting him slightly off his feet and burying his face into the halfling’s neck, “We’re sorry....” 

“For your loss and offering such disrespect.” Kili followed quickly, wrapping his arms, too, around Bilbo and effectively trapping the halfling in between them, “Our...”

Fili huffed, raising a hand to gently brush through Bilbo’s hair, the other tightening on his brother’s forearm, “Our father passed, too.” 

Bilbo closed his eyes, letting out a slow breath before raising his hands to place on the back of their heads. 

“We truly know how you feel.”

“Which is precisely why I feel no anger towards you two for your words.” Bilbo smiled softly, although the two pressed against him couldn’t see it, “I know you two would never intentionally say such things.”  

They were warm against his sides, and their arms tight around him made his heart beat a tick quicker. He had always imagined what it would feel like to be surrounded by someone’s strong arms, holding him tightly in comfort. 

Fili’s voice was slightly stronger than before, but no less guilt-ridden, “Be that as it may, it is still hurtful to hear such things, whether they were said intentionally or not.” 

It was precisely that reason that Bilbo allowed them to stay pressed close, instead of making some excuse to return to the campfire. He slunk his arms out from between them, wrapping the others in a tight return embrace. They needed comfort as much as he did, this much he knew, but he wouldn’t lie and say that their warmth wasn’t welcome. It had truly been so long before he’d even felt the tight hold of an embrace. 

He couldn’t remember the last time. 

“You are placing your bedroll between ours tonight, correct?” Fili slowly pulled away with a gentle pat to Bilbo’s back, his hands keeping contact and resting on Bilbo’s elbow, “Wouldn’t want our burglar to freeze.” 

Kili quickly agreed, “Definitely not, brother. He will have to keep very close tonight.” 

Bilbo couldn’t hold back his smile, offering the others a silent look of thanks, before allowing himself to be dragged back to the campsite. This would never be spoken of again, out of respect for both Bilbo and his father, but if the two Durin brothers stuck a bit closer to their hobbit the next few days, none would be the wiser. 

And it would be said, from that day on, they vehemently defended the good name of Bungo. 

**Author's Note:**

> I will take suggestions, prompts, or ideas that anyone may have! I'm always up for a good challenge! Though, I won't do Fem!Stories, never really liked them. Sorry. :(


End file.
